


i will literally Beat Your Ass if you don't come to bed rn

by cadavrii



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cute, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, One Shot, Short, Short & Sweet, Sleeping Together, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:54:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28997064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadavrii/pseuds/cadavrii
Summary: Victor felt his eyebrows twitch; he was surprised by Yuri’s objectivity. As he had said, objective truths had to be coaxed out of him, more often than not, and should they appear, they’d need separating from their self-deprecatory packaging. Not that he was complaining, it was that packaging which drew him to Yuri in the first place, that compelled him to his aid, and to his instruction. Even now, half-awake, his interest was piqued, his empathy ignited, his desire to gather Yuri up and hold him so tightly he couldn’t possibly think badly of himself, so long as Victor cherished him so, so overwhelming it was cruel he still lay unmoving. But alas, subtlety was key, and he didn’t want to cause distress. These things take patience, and patience, Victor had.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	i will literally Beat Your Ass if you don't come to bed rn

**Author's Note:**

> dormmate and i watched and rewatched yoi and i am Yearning!!!!!!!!
> 
> inspired by this fanart: https://pin.it/2EwnLaU
> 
> follow moodboard for this fic here: https://pin.it/3RXeswN
> 
> :)

“Yuri, come to bed.”

Victor pulled himself away from his pillow and relaxed against a steadying arm, blinking sleep from his eyes. His normally singsong, lifted pitch was somewhat sunken and rasped, addled with sleep. As his vision adjusted, Yuri, hunched and gathered, appeared to his left.

Yuri sat away from him, criss-cross on the bed, collected into himself, illuminated from the front by the light of his phone screen. He sat very still, shoulders pulled up to his ears, the edges of his face spectral and animated in the muted glow.

“I’m watching today’s tape one more time.”

Victor squinted, then yawned obnoxiously, falling momentarily back onto his pillow to stretch. He wriggled out from under the duvet and reached across the bed, slipping his arms beneath Yuri’s armpits and around his chest, pulling him into an embrace. Under their joined wait the mattress sagged, pulling Yuri backward into Victor’s stomach. Victor closed his eyes and rested his chin between Yuri’s shoulder blades. They remained drawn, but loosened considerably.

For a moment he let himself fell silent, enjoying the stillness. Yuri breathed deeply, his ribs and back muscles expanding into and away from Victor’s chest as he filled and voided his lungs. Yuri praised himself covertly; his work, of course. He was similarly still, save for the occasional shift in balance. The residual sleep weighed heavily on him, and he clung fixedly to Yuri to support his weight. As he too exhaled, he displaced Yuri’s hair; it tickled his nose and he reopened his eyes, his attention falling to Yuri’s phone. 

Eyes adjusting to the brightness, he watched warily as Yuri rewound the recording to the same place for the third time. With each repetition, Yuri’s nose snuck closer and closer to the screen. From the phone rose the tinny voices of the day’s judges, muffled somewhat by Yuri’s hands, audiating boredly the section of choreography upon which Yuri had fixed his attention. Victor sniffed amusedly, drawing a shiver from Yuri, whose neck had reached a dangerous angle of decline. 

“Vitya,” Victor cooed delicately. 

Yuri mumbled something incomprehensible, half to Victor, half to himself, preoccupied. He rewound the video again, visually wincing as the adjudicators, seemingly more irked than in their prior repetition, detailed his misstep.

Victor hummed impatiently and brought his palm over Yuri’s eyes, who protested with his breath but allowed him to do so. He took the phone from him and placed it face down on the nightstand, where it dimmed and faded, restoring the room to near darkness. 

Victor pulled his hand backward over Yuri’s forehead and raked his fingers through his hair, stopping at the base of his neck, which he squeezed and stroked gently with his thumb. He removed his chin from Yuri’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to his spine, pulling away and placing his pinky on the same spot. He drew a circle over the skin.

“Come to bed.”

With that, Victor tugged warmly at Yuri’s chest, dragging him backward into the duvet. Yuri did not resist. Rather, he fell stiffly against Victor, where he lay, head resting upon Victor’s abdomen, staring up at the ceiling. Victor settled himself among the pillows, intent to resume his prior pursuit, but Yuri remained rigid, examining the place the light fixture might’ve been, had it been visible in the dark room. Victor scoffed again, not pointedly, out of ill intent, but with clemency; this was not the first time Yuri had made ill of himself over his performance. Right on cue, as if to confirm Victor’s intuition, Yuri grew eerily still, as though he was holding his breath. Victor spoke without opening his eyes. 

“Something is troubling you, hm?”

He felt Yuri tense atop him. Victor waited patiently; he wanted Yuri to speak on his own accord, not because he’d been prompted to. He so often refused himself the ability to communicate his needs, if he’d acknowledge them at all. But as Yuri struggled to find the courage, evident in his silence, Victor spoke in his place. After all, what is a nudge in the right direction but food for positive habit?

“Tell me.”

He spoke with encouragement. It was not a demand, nor did Yuri take it as such. He responded, not out of obligation, but of that assurance.

“I’m thinking I’m not good enough.”

Victor felt his eyebrows twitch; he was surprised by Yuri’s objectivity. As he had said, objective truths had to be coaxed out of him, more often than not, and should they appear, they’d need separating from their self-deprecatory packaging. Not that he was complaining, it was that packaging which drew him to Yuri in the first place, that compelled him to his aid, and to his instruction. Even now, half-awake, his interest was piqued, his empathy ignited, his desire to gather Yuri up and hold him so tightly he couldn’t possibly think badly of himself, so long as Victor cherished him so, so overwhelming it was cruel he still lay unmoving. But alas, subtlety was key, and he didn’t want to cause distress. These things take patience, and patience, Victor had.

Victor extended his arm and brought his palm beneath Yuri’s chin, then, gently squeezing his cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, mimed speech, tightening and loosening his grip on Yuri’s face.

“You are so precious when you worry,” He mused. Then, sitting up, he doubled at the waist and took his face to Yuri’s, planting another kiss in between his eyebrows. He did not pull away, but remained in proximity, his breath falling delicately over Yuri’s nose and eyelashes.

“But what use is worrying now?”

Yuri shut his eyes, accepting Victor’s sentiment. He raised his own palm and let it fall across the back of Victor’s neck, holding his face to him, feeling his peace. Victor brought both hands to the sides of Yuri’s face, warming his ears, pressing another kiss to his hairline, a third to his nose, and finally one to his lips.

“Sleep, Vitya…”

In a moment of clarity, Yuri accepted Victor’s request, dragging himself up the bed and into Victor’s arms, burrowing his head clumsily into the crook of Victor’s neck. Satisfied, Victor wrestled with the duvet onehandedly, the other preoccupied around Yuri’s shoulders, and flipped it over their bodies. Yuri cozied into the mattress, comforter pulled up to his nose, sighing hotly into Victor’s shoulder. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, his words deadened by Victor’s collar, sleep already overtaking him. Victor purred back, wrapping himself fully around his lover, their shared body heat luring him too back into unconsciousness. He gathered Yuri further into himself, twisting slightly so as to allow his neck more comfort along his shoulder. Delivering a final peck to Yuri’s eyelids, he sank into his pillow, taking in warmth and comfort and Yuri, cradled snugly in his arms, before following him off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> THANKS for reading i fr skimped on my semester final to write this at 3am so pleathe leave kudos and comments to make me feel better about being a bad student also I jumped back and forth between this and said paper so if this is unintentionally and oddly academically written no it's not


End file.
